


Lucid

by weardodo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Wet-Dream, that's it really...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 22:09:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/918603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weardodo/pseuds/weardodo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter has a dream about Stiles</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lucid

**Author's Note:**

> This is for 'thepineapplelovesyou' ^^ 
> 
> Prompt: Peter having a wet dream about Stiles
> 
>  
> 
> Unbeta'd, blahblahblah, all mistakes are mine ^^
> 
>  
> 
> Hope Ya Like It! =)

 

 

_What was he doing here anyway?_

 

Although he did have a lot of trouble sleeping lately, something which had slightly been affecting his daily routine, he truly doesn’t remember going to Derek’s loft tonight. Nor does he have any recollection of getting a message about a meeting taking place that requested his presence.

 

Yet here he was, sitting on Derek’s couch, surrounded by Derek’s pack – and Scott’s, seeing as Isaac, Lydia, that Argent girl and Stiles were also attending.

 

He could see their faces clearly, but still, something felt off. Likewise with the talking, it somehow sounded like a distant echo of muffled noises, he tried to concentrate, tried to focus on the stream of words that he knew were there, but he couldn’t quite make out what exactly was being said.

 

Perhaps his sleep-deprivation really was getting the better of him? Perhaps his resurrection did came with side-effects, and he was finally being punished for trying to play god? Was he slowly decomposing? Was that possible? Was his mind slowly dematerializing, working its way into a downward spiral until all that’s left is some babbling weak fool that would be better off dead?

 

_Would they notice?_

 

He started to feel a bit uncomfortable, repositioning himself by scraping his throat and swinging his leg from where it was crossing the other, just to switch it.

 

He looked around, seeing the almost ghostly figures moving around, hearing them mumble clear yet indistinct words, when his eyes dropped on the figure sitting beside him on the couch. _Stiles_.

 

It was strange, because he could somehow see Stiles much more vibrant than he could see the rest, like they were both watching a 3D-movie-screen that surrounded them, but of which they had no real part.

 

He watched how the boy watched the scene in front of them, looking almost transfixed. He tried to shake himself out of his daze, looking at the figures, trying to concentrate more on what was being said, until he suddenly felt a hand sliding onto his thigh. _Stiles’ hand._

 

Looking at the long, lean fingers splayed across his thigh he moved his gaze up the boys arms, all the way to the boy’s face that was still turned forward, watching the movie. Stiles had started to slowly rub his hand up and down and he could feel the warmth radiating through the fabric of his pants.

 

What the hell was this kid doing? Not that he _really_ minded – after all, he’d always found the boy a highly enticing feature of Derek’s entourage –  but still, Stiles was playing with fire – and yes, he did realize the bitter irony of that fact. Someone was bound to notice how Stiles’ hand was petting Peter’s leg like _that_ , and with his luck _he_ would be the one getting his ass kicked for coming on to him.

 

Looking down at his thigh again, seeing ánd feeling how Stiles had started to knead, putting a little bit of pressure into his movements with every contraction of his fingers, Peter looked up again only to see the boy’s eyes looking straight at him, mouth slightly parted and glistering with saliva from where he had no doubt licked it repeatedly. Stiles’ eyes were definitely filled with lust, his pupils almost entirely covering the usual amber-color of his eyes.

 

He could feel himself getting hard and he knew he had to stop this right now before anyone would smell his arousal, so he placed his own hand on top of Stiles’, grabbing it tightly before trying to remove it from his leg. It didn’t work.

 

He looked up at the boy that was straddling him, slowly rocking his hips back and forth creating a friction between both their trapped hard bulges.

 

When the hell did the boy get on top of him? He suddenly noticed the way his own hands were firmly kneading Stiles’ hips, encouraging him to go on instead of throwing him off. How long had they been sitting like this?

 

Quickly moving his head to the side to see what was going on behind Stiles, preparing himself for shocked looks and an eventual ass-kicking from hell, he saw how the figures were still there, still going about their incoherent mumbling as if nothing out of the ordinary had been going on.

 

The only thing different from before was the fact that the figures had somehow turned more vague. He could still recognize them with ease, but in some weird sense they just weren’t really clear anymore.

 

_He was definitely losing his mind._

 

Stiles rocked forward again and he couldn’t help the deep wanton moan that escaped his throat. Losing his mind or not, he actually didn’t feel like stopping this kid’s eager humping. It just felt too good, and all loose innuendos he had thrown at the boy in the past aside, he actually really had wanted the kid for a while now. _Never look a gift horse in the mouth, right?_

 

He looked at the boy rubbing himself fiercely on top of him, watched how the kid had thrown his head backwards, eyes closed and mouth agape. He listened to the deep long moans Stiles created, how he alternated them with lust-filled words like ‘oh my god’ and ‘so good’. He felt how the accumulating heat between their clothed erections started to burn and become uncomfortable.

 

Those clothes really needed to go really _really_ soon, before they’d both get friction-burns in places they most likely both didn’t want them.

 

His hands roamed up the boy’s back until he reached his neck and he pulled him forward, catching Stiles’ moist mouth with his own. The kid was definitely eager. He could instantly feel Stiles’ tongue massaging his own and he heard how the eerie silence of the room became filled with the wet and soggy sounds of saliva being exchanged. Stiles tasted sweet and spicy at the same time. He tasted sultry and aroused. Stiles tasted like someone who wants to be fucked.

 

He looked down and saw how his own hands were unbuttoning his own pants. Feeling slightly disorientated he looked around the room only to see that they had somehow moved from the couch and he was now standing at the desk with Stiles splayed on top of it, naked, legs dangling over the edge and looking up at him expectantly.

 

He closed his eyes and shook his head, when he opened them again he was naked, leaning on one hand beside Stiles’ head, and he could feel how his other hand had already positioned his own dick at the boys entrance, Stiles’ legs embracing his waist. His cock and Stiles’ hole were seemingly slick but he had no idea where they would’ve gotten any lube from.

 

To be honest, at this point he had no idea ‘how’ or ‘what’ or ‘when’ _at all_.

 

He decided he’d worry about those lost pieces of memory later, and he started to press forward, feeling the tight ring of the boy’s muscle resisting at first until it relaxed and he could feel Stiles’ warmth envelope him whole.

 

As he slowly started to thrust, Stiles started to moan louder and louder, mumbling incoherent words of encouragement, and when Stiles dug his nails deep into his hips, pressing him deeper, Peter felt himself almost losing control entirely.

 

Suddenly a muffled beeping sound caught his ears and although he really didn’t feel like moving his mouth from the boy’s neck and chest, the fact that the room had been completely silent before made him curious as to what that sound could be. But before he could look around the room, Stiles was pleading for him to kiss him. Somehow he couldn’t resist the boy’s demand, so he started to ravish Stiles’ swollen red mouth again.

 

The beeping sound started to become more frequent, more loud, until his vision suddenly turned black and disorientation slowly turned into realization. The black he saw was the black from his own closed lids, and the beeping sound was the sound of his alarm-clock trying to scream just a little louder and more and more frequent with every passing minute, trying to wake him up. It clearly worked, he was awake now. He was awake and he was literally bathing in sweat – and most likely not only in sweat.

 

_It had all been a dream._

 

Trying to go about the day as usual, trying to forget the dream, how real it had felt, how he could still taste Stiles’ in his mouth, he received a text from Derek requesting his presence at a meeting tonight.

 

_Great, how utterly wonderful…_

 

 

He was sitting at the couch, arms stretched out across the headrest, legs crossed, head leaning back and eyes closed. The bickering between Scott, Derek, and that Martin girl had been going on for far too long now, it was really starting to get on his nerves. He refrained from budging-in though – he’d seen that red-head in action, and he’d rather keep the important parts of his manhood intact.

 

Stiles was sitting next to him on the couch, playing with his phone, tongue darting out at random intervals to wet his lips. Peter tried his best to not think about it, to not think about how it felt to have Stiles riding his lap, to not think about how it felt to fuck the boy on the desk and hear him make those blasphemous noises. He tried his absolute best to keep his mind focused on the scene in front of him, trying his best not to open his eyes to secretly catch a glance of Stiles’ sinful mouth and that equally sinful tongue.

 

Suddenly he felt a hand on his thigh, traveling upwards and stopping near his crotch with a single squeeze. He could feel his own breath hitch as his eyes snapped open. But when he looked down at his leg, there was no hand there, only the ghostly imprint of a hand set in warmth. He turned his head to look at the boy sitting next to him, only to see that Stiles had his head cocked towards him and was looking at him with a somewhat devious grin.

 

Before he could fully comprehend what was going on, Stiles gave him a highly innuendous wink before turning his focus back to his phone.

 

 

 

 

\- FIN -


End file.
